


Failure to Thrive

by Hale13



Series: Whump Bingo 2020 [18]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Bullying, Depression, Eating Disorders, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, Whump Bingo, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27077062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hale13/pseuds/Hale13
Summary: The first time Peter skipped a meal it was an honest accident; he was back home two hours past curfew, he still had a physics problem set to do, school started in less than six hours.  There was no time to eat.The second time it was on purpose.(For Bingo space G3 – Looking unusually ruffled, messy hair, bags under their eyes.)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Whump Bingo 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943986
Comments: 12
Kudos: 224





	Failure to Thrive

**Author's Note:**

> This a based on a prompt sent to me by a guest comment, ‘Genie’. Thanks for the prompts! I hope that I did this one justice!
> 
> TW for unnamed eating disorders/depression/anxiety.
> 
> I wrote this for an eating disorder prompt but, at least in my mind, this is more withholding from eating due to depression and anxiety.

Ever since the bite, Peter had been ravenous.

Well, that’s not completely true. The first month after the bite Peter never felt full: he ate whatever Ben cooked for breakfast, he ate the offered free breakfast and lunch provided by Midtown, he ate whatever snacks Ned offered in class, he got Delmar’s after school, he ate leftovers when he got home and dinner with May and Ben and sometimes had a midnight snack too. Nothing filled him up.

As things started to equalize (his muscles stopped growing and changing, he stopped getting taller, and his powers fully manifested) so, too, did his hunger. He was no longer constantly starving and could cut back a bit on how much he ate – from a whopping ten thousand-ish calories a day to a much more feasible five to six thousand depending on his level of activity and what he may or may not be healing from. But, even with things much more stable, he always felt a little gnawing in his gut reminding him that he could still eat more, that he wasn’t quite satisfied yet.

After Ben died, Peter was even more careful. They had gone from two salaries to one and, even though May owned their apartment outright and made decent money as the head nurse of the NICU, they were sometimes cutting it a little close by the end of the month. Queens wasn’t a cheap place to live and Peter never quite went hungry but he was never full either.

The very first time Peter skipped a meal it was a total accident. School had been crazy busy with multiple tests and he had to stay late for decathlon practice before he could go to his ‘internship’ (aka Spider-Man). Delmar’s was closed for some renovations so no after school sandwich snack today before he swung out into Queens. He honestly thought he would get home early too until he got involved in a drug deal gone wrong that led to a hostage situation that lasted well past his curfew.

Thank God May was working third shift tonight or he would totally be busted.

As it was, he crawled into his window two hours after his curfew, completely exhausted with a whole physics problem set to do before school started in six hours. Forgoing the shower until the morning, Peter slipped on last nights pajamas and settled out his desk to crack through his homework, his adrenaline still high and ruining his appetite.

He ended up falling asleep, head pillowed on his physics book at his desk and stomach growling.

The next morning he woke up late and barely had time to shower and dress and grab a granola bar on his way out the door before running to catch his train. He slid into his seat just before the bell rang, mouthing a grateful ‘thank you’ to Ned who tossed him an apple, he knew that Peter couldn’t function without food these days.

By lunch, Peter felt a little like his insides were eating themselves and nearly ran to the cafeteria, keeping a subdued pace only for MJ (nose pressed between the pages of her latest novel) and nearly salivating at the smell of school pizza (his least favorite lunch but beggars can’t be choosers and all that). The lunch ladies, who knew that he got free lunch and was only able to afford Midtown because of his full ride scholarship, must have been able to tell just how hungry he was because they piled a couple extra slices on his tray and an extra large scoop of the two vegetables of the day (green beans and carrots). The cashier lifted an eyebrow but didn’t bring any attention to it and shooed Peter along to meet up with Ned and MJ, both of whom had brought their lunch.

Peter was only one bite into his first slice when Flash slid in next to him with a cocky “Sup Penis,” and took one of the slices off his tray.

“Can we not today Flash?” Peter asked, perturbed and moving his tray out of reaching distance, snatching the pizza slice away from Flash in a dexterous move that he wouldn’t do under normal circumstances.

“Hungry are we?” Flash teased mercilessly, slinging his arm around Peter’s shoulders to keep him from just walking away. “I know you get free lunch, what, your aunt finally run out of money to feed you? Not fucking surprised if you eat like that at home. It’s a miracle you aren’t fucking fat!”

“Fuck off Eugene,” MJ said monotonously from where she sat a few seats down from them, glaring over the top of her book.

“Or what?” Flash asked back, reaching across Peter, who sat a little stunned in his seat, to try to take the pizza again.

“Or this,” MJ said, standing up and leaning over to dump her berry kombucha down Flash’s white shirt to pool on his khakis. Flash spluttered and nearly fell off the bench in his attempt to stand.

“Do you know how much this shirt cost?” He all but screamed at MJ who gazed at him with an expressionless look on her face.

“I think the better question is do I care and the answer is no. Better run along now before that stains Eugene,” MJ told him pointedly, taking a sip from the second bottle she pulled for her lunch bag and giving him a meaningful look. Flash huffed for a moment but decided to not press his luck and slinked out of the cafeteria and toward, presumably, the closest bathroom to clean up his outfit.

“I would die for you,” Ned told MJ firmly, wonderment clear on his face.

“Then perish,” she responded with a slight smirk.

Neither of them noticed how white Peter had gone after the altercation or the way he only ate a small portion of his meal before begging off to go to the library to finish the English paper he had submitted by email two nights before.

An uncomfortable feeling was clawing at his stomach and chest and it had nothing to do with hunger.

* * *

“How’s my favorite teenage vigilante?” Mr. Stark’s tinny voice said through the speaker of Peter’s cracked iPhone as he twirled aimlessly in his desk chair.

“How many teenage vigilantes do you know?” Peter asked curiously, carefully avoiding the question and ignoring the rubble in his gut.

“Irrelevant,” Mr. Stark responded. “What are you doing right now?”

“Well its Friday so, you know, homework.”

“God your such a geek,” Mr. Stark said brightly, taking any possible sting out of the words and drawing a smile to Peter’s face.

“Well I am an honors scholarship student at the top rated STEM school in the state of New York,” Peter mused. “Aren’t I kinda required to be a geek?”

Mr. Stark hummed and Peter heard him grumble under his breath and the sound of horns honking angrily in the background. “Are you driving and talking on the phone?” Peter asked.

“Of course not, that would be irresponsible,” Mr. Stark said over the sound of a cacophony of horns in the background. “Happy’s driving. Anyway, pack your shit. You just won a May-approved all expenses paid trip to the Avengers compound for the weekend. Very competitive lottery. Aren’t you lucky?”

“The compound?” Peter said, trying to keep the nervous trembling out of his voice. “Uh… I’m a little busy this weekend Mr. Stark.”

“Ah ah ah,” Mr. Stark said. “No you aren’t. I checked with May and Ted to make sure.”

“You called Ned?” Peter asked a little incredulously.

“Five minutes out. Tick Tony Webs,” Mr. Stark said brightly before disconnecting the call leaving Peter sitting frozen in his still desk chair with the phone still pressed to the side of his head.

Peter had been really careful to avoid Mr. Stark over the past few weeks which, while it would normally be a pretty difficult task since he was at the Tower or the compound a few times a week and at least every other weekend, was pretty easy since he was on an extended vacation to Spain with Ms. Potts. Pepper told him that it was a business trip but Peter suspected that Tony got very little Stark Industries work done. He didn’t really think he would see Tony before mid-week and that he would have time to prepare.

Things hadn’t really been great since the day at school when Flash had commented on Peter’s lunch. Look, Peter’s really book smart but he’ll be the first one to tell you that he’s not really good at emotional intelligence. He mostly internalizes everything which he knows is super unhealthy but he can’t really stop. Since that day nearly three weeks ago Peter has cut down significantly on his food intake. He’s downloaded calorie tracking apps and keeps track of their grocery bill.

He’s not going to be a burden on May.

Like a man mounting the gallows, Peter gathered up his suit, laptop and a few changes of clothes to shove into his backpack before shoving a thick sweatshirt on over his t-shirt to hopefully make him look a little bulkier. Ever since week two he’d had to do this trick at school to keep Ned from questioning anything, Peter’s lean muscles (that hadn’t shrunk any) were starting to look strange as he metabolized any fat left on his body. And wasn’t it a little fucked up that one little part of his brain was working on a hypothesis as to why his muscles weren’t being used for sustenance?

A knock sounded on the apartment door seconds before Mr. Stark used the key he had made to let himself in. Peter took one more steadying breath and adjusted the sweatshirt to cover his protruding clavicles before stepping out into the living room. “Hey Mr. Stark!” He said, forcing an excited smile onto his face.

“Underoos!” Tony treated him, grabbing Peter and pulling him into a hug before Peter could dodge. Peter clenched his eyes, he felt the exact moment Mr. Stark stiffened and heard the breath get caught in his throat and knew he’d been made. “Pete?” Tony said softly, letting Peter out of the hug but not realizing his grip on Peter’s bony shoulders, holding him at arms length to survey him.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice sounded unsteady to his own ears and he carefully avoided eye contact.

Mr. Stark was quiet for a few more seconds before steering Peter to the couch. “It’s been a while, Pete, why don’t we catch up? You never answered my question earlier: how are you?”

“I’m fine,” Peter insisted, clasping his hands between his knees to keep them from shaking.

“Pete?” Mr. Stark said softly and Peter nearly flinched, his eyes feeling hot but dry. “Can you look at me kiddo?” Peter swallowed convulsively a few times and pinched his eyes shut, a muscle in his jaw working. “It’s okay Underoos, its just you and me.”

It felt like it took a Herculean effort, but Peter lifted his eyes to look at Mr. Stark’s face, still avoiding eye contact. If he made eye contact he was so done.

“What’s going on bambino?” Tony asked and, even feeling as messed up and nervous as he did, Peter’s stomach warmed and settled some at the use of the nickname. He shook his head regardless.

“It’s stupid.”

“Anything that makes you feel like this isn’t stupid,” Tony told him, conviction heavy in his words. Peter swallowed again, Tony hadn’t outright said it, but he knew enough Peter knew that he would never let any of this go without getting to the bottom of it.

“I just,” Peter started, his voice breaking and he paused to lick his lips and adjust in his seat, eyes dropping from Tony’s face. “It’s really stupid Mr. Stark.”

Tony stayed silent, clearly waiting for Peter to elaborate but Peter was done. He couldn’t really talk about it, at least not right now. He wasn’t ready. Tony sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Peter asked softly, heart sinking a little.

“Okay as in ‘okay, I get that you don’t want to talk about it’,” Tony said, slipping his arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Not okay as in any part of this is okay. I get it, your not ready and that’s alright. Recovery is a process and its hard but I’m going to help you even if you don’t want to talk to me about it, Capiche?”

Peter sniffed a little, eyes still dry but the stinging was more prominent now, and leaned into Mr. Stark’s side, soaking up the warmth the man provided. He’s been feeling cold all week. “Capiche,” Peter agreed quietly.

“Now, and you have to answer this Pete even though I know you don’t want to talk about it, when was the last time you ate and what was it?”

Tony waited patiently as Peter grappled with the answer, he didn’t want to disappoint by not answering but he also knew that his answer was going to upset his mentor just as much. After waffling for a few minutes, Peter finally decided to just bite the bullet. “I had a banana for breakfast,” he said, voice carefully devoid of emotion.

Even though it had to upset him and scare him, Tony just gave a single nod and gave Peter’s bicep a quick squeeze. “Well I think breakfast for dinner sounds great, think you could eat some scrambled eggs?” Peter blinked at the quick Segway but nodded. “Great! We better get down to the car before Happy comes looking for us.”

Feeling a little but lighter than before, Peter allowed Tony to toss his backpack over his shoulders and steer Peter out the door and to the car.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this one! We are getting so close to the end!
> 
> I’m still accepting prompts and, if they won’t all fit in this series, I’ll write them individually:)
> 
> Things might slow up to a post once every two days from now until the end just due to some severe health issues within my family that I need to be around for. Sorry for any inconvenience this might cause and thank you all for sticking with me as I work my way through this!
> 
> I don’t have a tumblr but join me over on Twitter @Hale1310 - I just set it up and I’m looking for some prompts to combine with these bingo prompts and for separate stories!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
